“You’ve hurt yourself.” Faustrius grabbed a handkerchief from within his silken vest and began to wrap her palms, but she pulled out of his grasp, instead grabbing the sides of his face. He seemed even more beautiful painted in her blood.
“Faustrius,” she cried, “how is it possible everything I touch turns to darkness? Must it be true then? What she said to me?”
The memory that haunted her every waking moment flitted through Sira’s mind: Aurelia’s golden gaze peering out from among the rosebushes as the Gardens of Ithilias curled and writhed with pain. All the while, Sira stood just out of reach of their briars, clutching her little rose.
“All you shall ever create is suffering.”
Faustrius tenderly wiped the tears from Sira’s cheeks. “My lady, my people followed you down from the Above because of your heart. If your heart holds darkness, then darkness is what we need.”
“But my creations…” Sira sobbed. “They’remonsters.”
Faustrius took a breath, then closed his eyes.They are the color of the sky, Sira thought, then questioned herself.I don’t remember what the sky looks like.
“The creatures you create stem from the rock and root of this world,” Faustrius said. “Perhaps you need something that stems from the rock and root of a realm made of stronger magic.”
“What are you saying?”
He took her hands in his and clutched them. She didn’t mind the sharp bite of pain through her palms. In fact, she relished it. “You know what I offer you, my lady.” His blue eyes flashed. “My queen.”
Sira stood, a sense of calm drifting through her. This beautiful fae with his beautiful people… Yes, they were of potent magic. And she was their shepherd.
She ran a hand along the curtain of his hair, coating it red. Could she do it? Could she tear off their fleeces and replace them with gold?
Of course she could. There was no other option.
“Come with me,” she said to the fae man before her.
He stood and obeyed.
Sira walked him over to the rose, the image of Aurelia burning in her mind.I will create the divine, and when I return to the Above, Aurelia will weep from the beauty of them.
Aurelia would weep.
1
Farron
Bright red flames flicker beneath my feet as I sprint across thetiled rooftop. I twirl the Lance of Valor in my hands, then spear it through the rib cage of an approaching goblin. With a flick, it slides off my weapon and careens over the side of the building, smacking against the ruddy stone below.
Florendel, capital of the Spring Realm, sprawls before me, but it isn’t the Florendel I remember. The stone appears dull, a bruised pink, as if all the warmth has been siphoned away. The colorful vines that hung off the awnings of shops are now brittle coils. Goblins prowl the streets like rats, making nests in what were once homes. Worse even than those little buggers are the deserters of the Queen’s Army who chose to follow the Green Rule. Twisted by loyalty to whatever Kairyn promised them, they’ve long forgotten their vows to uphold the light of the queen.
Florendel was always filled with noise: banging from the forge, the bustle of markets, music drifting through the alleys. Now, there are only the sounds of battle. The city feels battered, its spirit extinguished. A surge of anger rises within me. This isEzryn’s home. I’ll see Florendel given back to its people, by any means necessary.
The thought steadies me, and I continue running. Flames on my feet help me leap from rooftop to rooftop as I continue to scout.
We’ve cleared the outskirts and are pushing steadily farther into the heart of Spring’s capital. The true members of the Queen’s Army, the ones who returned to the light, bidden by Ezryn, have cut through the droves of goblins and Green Rule soldiers. Though our plan was made in haste, it seems to be working.
Was it only days ago we placed our trust in the Prince of Thorns? Hoping beyond hope he’d save our mate? Send her to Winter, to Kel, where she’ll be safest? Doubt creeps into my mind, but I push it away with another swing of my lance, sending two goblins flying off the rooftop. Of course, Dayton, Ezryn, and I had intended to fly directly to Frostfang.
There was nothing left for Hadria; the entire city is underwater, its citizens now refugees in the siren stronghold of Aerantheis. Hadria’s steward, Dayton’s little sister, Delphia, along with my sister, Eleanor, have joined the legendary Huntresses of Aura to scour the Enchanted Vale for other members of the Queen’s Army: the ones who never aligned with Kairyn, who fled the monastery and disappeared. On the backs of winged horses, if anyone can find these lost soldiers, it’s the huntresses.
But Dayton, Ez, and I had airships and an army at our command. As much as Ineedto see Rosalina, to feel her in my arms… I have to put my trust in Caspian. In Kel.
They’re both her mates too.
So we planned our assault on Florendel.
After clearing another rooftop, I pause, observing the city from this angle. My job was to scout ahead and burn thepoisonous plants that had infected the capital, hypnotizing the citizens and turning them into Kairyn’s obedient puppets. But I don’t need to. The bright red blooms that had once poisoned my mind have wilted. All Kairyn’s plants are withered, nothing more than dry, brown husks. Is that why this Green Rule army is giving us less of a fight than I expected?
